


you feel it too (don't you?)

by feloosha (gwencelot)



Series: Ironqrow Week 2020 [3]
Category: RWBY
Genre: First Dates, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:48:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22258243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwencelot/pseuds/feloosha
Summary: Several things click into place for James very quickly. The request to dress nicely. The showy restaurant. The touches. The fancy drink.He lifts his eyes, blue meeting Qrow’s soft red, crinkled at the corners. “Is this… a date?”
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/James Ironwood
Series: Ironqrow Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1599922
Comments: 11
Kudos: 88





	you feel it too (don't you?)

**Author's Note:**

> I love inserting Clover as the character who knows everyone's business before even they do.
> 
> Anyway, this was inspired by [this incorrect Ironqrow quote](https://incorrectironqrowquotes.tumblr.com/post/190234221784/qrow-wow-i-cant-believe-you-invited-me-out-to#notes). And my entry for Ironqrow Week 2020 "date night."
> 
> [See what's in the works at my tumblr!](https://feloosha.tumblr.com/wip)

“Looking sharp, sir!” 

James pauses, hands stilling at his neck where he’s adjusting his tie and glancing up in the reflection of the window. Clover is leaning against the doorway to his office, arms folded across his chest and a relaxed smile on his face as always. James chuckles, turning away and taking a few steps to meet him in the middle of the room.

“Thank you. Did Winter…?”

“She told me you’re taking the night off. I’ll make sure to call you if anything comes up.” Clover looks him up and down slowly, something mischievous dancing in his eyes. James would normally call someone out for being so unprofessional, but it’s not like he and Clover have a conventional workplace relationship; not like Clover knows how to be anything other than a friend rather than a coworker.

“I appreciate it.” James tilts his head, eyebrows raising, waiting for Clover to say what he wants to say. It doesn’t take long.

“Who are you all dressed up for?” Ah, there it is. James rolls his eyes, face heating up. It’s not like he’s in a full tux, but his blazer and slacks are certainly something the others aren’t used to seeing him in.

“It’s not that. Qrow wants to get dinner and catch up. He told me, and I quote, to ‘look presentable,’ which is rich coming from him.”

“Uh huh.” Clover’s smile doesn’t waver, but the corner of one side of his mouth quirks up a bit, like he knows something James doesn’t. Before he can ask, Clover is spinning on his heel, making to leave as quickly as he came. “Have a good night, sir.”

“You as well!” James calls, and then he’s gone.

* * *

When James rounds the corner of the street he and Qrow are meeting on, he spots the other man almost immediately. He allows himself a moment to just admire Qrow; leaned against the side of the restaurant he presumes they’ll be dining at, hands shoved deep into his pockets, the long line of his body accentuated by a form-fitting button down and nice pants. He looks…  _ good. _

Qrow looks up as James approaches, greeting him with a familiar crooked smile, and oh, it’s been a long time since Qrow has looked at him like that. James feels his stomach flutter and curses internally; he’s been strategically avoiding spending time with Qrow alone since his arrival to Atlas for exactly this reason. 

“Hey Jimmy,” he says, smile widening when James rolls his eyes at the old nickname. “Glad you could make it.”

“Of course, Qrow,” James gestures to the door, a question, and at Qrow’s nod he opens it for Qrow to go in first. When they’re both inside, James takes a moment to pause and look around as Qrow speaks to the hostess. He knows Atlas doesn’t have many  _ casual  _ restaurants, but he certainly wasn’t expecting this level of fine dining: servers in prim uniforms bustling about, tables set for full course meals, sparkling chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.

“James?” He startles at Qrow’s gentle touch to his elbow, lingering. Qrow smirks, nodding his head toward the hostess, adjusting his hold on James’ arm to pull him along. She leads them to the back of the restaurant and, to James’ surprise, a relatively secluded table, separated from the rest by a divider. The buzz of conversation through the rest of the room is still there, but muffled, and James settles in to their own little private corner, the skin under his sleeve tingling pleasantly when Qrow finally releases him.

“I must say I’m surprised,” James says as the hostess takes her leave, picking up a menu. He tries to keep his face blank as he looks at the prices; he has no idea how Qrow is affording this. James wonders if he can somehow convince the other man to let him pay.

“Were you expecting a bar?” Qrow teases. James jerks his head up quickly, but Qrow has an easy smile on his face as his head rests in one hand, menu in the other. James relaxes, glad Qrow feels comfortable enough to joke about that with him. He can’t imagine how hard it’s been to go sober, especially with the recent events plaguing Atlas.

“Maybe a burger joint.” James suggests, chest warming when Qrow bursts out laughing. It’s the most open and free James has ever heard him sound.

“You got me there, Jim.” They settle into comfortable silence while they decide what to eat. When James puts his menu aside, he’s surprised to feel Qrow’s foot give his a light kick under the table. He looks up, but Qrow’s face betrays nothing, still staring at the menu.

James takes a moment to consider Qrow, staring thoughtfully. They haven’t had a chance to really talk since that first night, since James was blindsided by ten people appearing on his doorstep, some who he thought he’d never see again. He had taken Qrow aside and held him close (but not too close), making sure Qrow knew he was happy to see him, but not going any further (never going any further).

And it’s not for lack of trying, at least not on Qrow’s part; James has turned him down more than once, citing lack of availability, too much work, always busy, avoiding Qrow’s disappointed looks and soft sighs of, “Okay, next time, Jim.” It’s not that he  _ doesn’t  _ want to spend time with Qrow. He’s just afraid of letting himself get too comfortable again. Too close.

When their server appears, James is glad to have something else to focus on.

“Can I get you started with any drinks?” Before James can respond, Qrow leans over to look at the menu with her, pointing at a specific line.

“We’ll take the bottle.” She nods and promises to return quickly, and James tries not to balk, concerned. 

“Qrow,” he says carefully.

Qrow smiles. “It’s non-alcoholic sparkling cider.”

_ Oh.  _ James nods slowly, feeling bad for even thinking that Qrow would relapse. Especially here, with him, in a nice restaurant. God, what was he thinking? As he opens his mouth to apologize, he sees movement on the table out of the corner of his eye, and looks down in time for Qrow’s left hand to curl around his right where it rests on the table. Even through his glove, his prosthetic’s sensor transmits the feeling of warmth and comfort it brings, making James’ voice catch in his throat.

Several things click into place for James very quickly. The request to dress nicely. The showy restaurant. The touches. The fancy drink. 

He lifts his eyes, blue meeting Qrow’s soft red, crinkled at the corners. “Is this… a date?”

“Uh, yeah, kinda.” Qrow’s free hand comes up to rub at the back of his neck, a nervous habit he’s had as long as James has known him. His smile falters. “If that’s okay.”

“Qrow,” James laughs, nudging his hand so he can lace their fingers together over the table. Qrow’s smile slowly returns, his eyes flicking between their hands and James’ face. “You could have just asked.”

“I was  _ trying,”  _ Qrow insists, kicking James again lightly. “You kept saying you were busy! I’m not a mind reader, Jimmy.”

“I—” James pauses, rubbing at his beard. “I may have been… obtuse.”

“You mean avoiding me.”

“What—”

“Jim, come on,” Qrow props his chin back in his hand, shaking his head. “I like Clover and all, but I wasn’t needed on any of those missions. I wanted to be with you.” He turns their hands over carefully until he can untangle their fingers, instead using them to trace along James’ palm. “And I think you feel the same.”

James lets him continue for a moment, not daring to move. He wants so desperately to say yes, especially with  _ Qrow _ being the one to lay his feelings out, heart on his sleeve, so different from the man he last saw at Beacon. But at the same time, the person James has always loved: honest, compassionate, and endlessly selfless. It’s just...

“I’m scared,” James admits. “I don’t want to lose you. Something… A lot of things could go wrong.”

“Hey,” Qrow says quietly with a lopsided smile. “That’s my line.” 

James chuckles in spite of himself, catching Qrow’s hand in his own again, holding on a bit too tightly. Qrow doesn’t seem to mind, and maybe, James thinks, even looks a little hopeful. And James  _ wants. _

“Alright,” He says after a moment, eyes trailing down to Qrow’s lips. Qrow must notice, because he darts his tongue out to lick them very deliberately, grinning when James snaps his eyes back up. Bastard. “Alright, but I’m treating you. It’s the least I can do.”

Qrow laughs and leans back in his chair, careful to keep their hands connected. “Thank god. I had no idea where I was gonna pull that Lien from.”

James rolls his eyes. Yeah, they’re gonna be just fine.

  
  



End file.
